Harmonies of the Haunted
by Sultan Peppershaker
Summary: A collection of tales from the attic.
1. Panic Attack

"Looking forward to getting home?" Victoria asked, as she cleaned her horn-rimmed glasses with a blue silk cloth.

"Absolutely," Via replied. "The thought of going to university next year is great, but I just want to sleep in my own bed for a change."

"Tell me about it," she said, brushing a strand of her brown hair back to its proper place in her A-line bob cut.

"Do you think you'll be going to Bennington?"

"I'm really leaning towards it. I guess I've still got some time before applications are due, though. Have you finished your summer assignments?"

"All I've got left is the AP Psychology chapters."

"Really? I finished those in, like, the first week."

"You've always got to upstage me, don't you?" Via asked as she leaned back on the hard, uncomfortable metallic bench.

"Now boarding numbers A1 through A30," a friendly male voice announced over the intercom. "Flight 839, to Los Angeles International, numbers A1 through A30."

"Well, let's go," Victoria said, giving Via a clap on the thigh. She bolted up, having been on the verge of falling asleep.

"About bloody time," she muttered, grabbing her bag and following her friend to the gate.

Victoria grinned. "You should use English slang more often."

"Yeh, you'd fancy that wouldn't you?"

"You know me too well." Victoria smiled as she got her ticket checked.

"Have a nice flight, Miss Bradley," the woman behind the counter said with a grin. Via followed suit and caught up to Victoria outside the cabin doors, waiting for the people already onboard to load their luggage in the overhead bins.

"How long is this flight, anyway?"

"....an hour and a half? I think so, anyway."

"Brilliant."

Victoria nodded as she let Via take the window seat.

"At least it's a small plane, right? No middle seat."

"Definitely," Victoria responded, glancing around the cabin. "Not like that last flight."

Via drew the window shade down and sighed as she sank back into her seat. Victoria looked through the magazine in the seat pocket in front of her to pass time until takeoff.

After a lengthy, awkward, mostly silent wait, the plane started backing away from the gate, and the pilot's voice came over the intercom.

"Ahhh alright, folks. We're looking at a, uh.... 'bout a 90 minute flight here... weather in Los Angeles is ahh... about ninety-eight degrees... Got some tailwinds today so we'll be getting in a little ahead of schedule... sooo just sit back and enjoy the flight."

Victoria looked at the tray table and let out a short laugh. She pointed to the safety warning: PLEASE FASTEN SEATBELT WHILE SEATED.

"Apparently some people try to do that standing up! Eh? Eh?" She elbowed Via playfully in the arm, and Via batted at her arm, shaking her head. "Ah, you Brits and your dry sense of humor..."

Via smirked and put on a Canadian accent. "Ohh, you Brits are all aboot your tea and crumpets, dontcha know."

"I do _not_ talk like that!" Victoria protested with a laugh.

"Oh, don't deny your heritage. I think your accent is adorable."

She smirked. "Well, thanks. I'm flattered."

The plane came to a stop at the start of the runway. Via took a deep breath.

"Ready?" Victoria asked. Via pressed her lips together and nodded. "Here. Take my hand."

Via shut her eyes and grabbed Victoria's hand. The plane's engines roared to life, and the great machine sped down the runway. Via felt herself get pressed further into the seat; a familiar sinking feeling followed as the wheels left the Tarmac. Via squeezed Victoria's hand harder, and she returned the pressure.

As the plane leveled out, Via slowly released her white-knuckled grip on her friend's hand. Victoria subtly flexed her fingers, then looked over at Via and smiled. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Via said, her eyes still shut. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good." She smiled and leaned back into her seat.

The stewardess pushed the beverage cart down the aisle, which brushed Victoria's elbow. She opened her eyes, having been nearly asleep, as the flight attendant asked if she'd like anything to drink.

"Oh, nothing for me, thanks," she said with a shake of her head. Via glanced up and shook her head as well. The bubbly flight attendant nodded, flipped a lock of red hair over her shoulder, and moved onto the next aisle.

"Who would want a job like this?" Via asked, wringing a napkin in her hands.

"Don't flight attendants get to fly anywhere for free?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"I know I wouldn't mind _that_..."

"Right. Well. I think I'm going to try and sleep." Via stretched her arms over her head before tilting her seat back what little distance it would allow.

Victoria nodded. "Same here. That last flight wore me out."

Via managed to sleep for about twenty minutes before a jolt woke her up. She looked over at Victoria, expecting her to be the cause, but saw that she was still fast asleep. No one in the cabin seemed to have noticed the disturbance, she noticed, or if they did, they weren't showing any concern about it.

She sighed and leaned back, trying to go back to sleep, but she couldn't. Her eyes were fixed, wide open; she grabbed a tissue and started wringing it in her hands. She glanced around the cabin nervously.

The second jolt woke up Victoria as well. "Mmm... what's up?" she asked.

"Pardon?"

"Did you wake me up?"

Via shook her head. Her leg was twitching uncontrollably.

"Must've hit some turbulence or something," she reasoned as she pulled her seat back into a full upright position.

Via slowly felt her body slowly pitching forward amongst more jarring of the cabin and an uneven whirring sound. Her breathing became much more rapid and shallow. She reached out for Victoria's hand and squeezed it.

Victoria noticed that much of the rest of the cabin was becoming increasingly alarmed, but her attention was disrupted when Via's hand gripped hers like a vise. She squeezed back and looked over at her friend, who was hyperventilating. "Oh, God, breathe, Via, breathe. Deep breaths, Via, deep breaths."

Her breathing was becoming more labored as she struggled for air. A sharp, tearing pain began to spread over her chest. She placed a hand flat on her chest, not because of the ragged stinging her breathing was causing, but because she felt as if her heart were going to burst out of her chest if she didn't.

"Via!" Victoria's voice boomed in her ears, impossibly loud. She turned her head to face her, unable to find her in her fading peripheral vision. "Via, deep breaths, please!" the girl pleaded, on the verge of tears. Via looked around the cabin, unable to focus on her friend's advice.

Her face flushed. She tugged at the collar of her shirt uncomfortably.

The cabin of the plane was spinning, swimming in and out of focus.

Her body shook madly. She struggled to swallow back a wave of nausea washing over her. She rocked forward and back in her chair; her hands crept up and clutched her head as she shut her eyes tight. Her leg muscles began to convulse. She gritted her teeth and tried to block out the feeling of hundreds of pins driving into hands and feet, the constricting sensation of an invisible hand over her throat, the churning in her stomach, the burning in the back of her head. She clawed at her scalp and tugged her hair as she gasped for breath.

_Oh God what is happening to me run I don't want to die can't breathe help this can't be happening RUN this can't be real oh God I've gone stark raving mad  
_

_HELP_

Amidst the screams, the rattling of the cabin, the slamming of the overhead bags into the walls, Via's mind had a startling moment of clarity.

_I am going to die_

Victoria reached for Via's other hand, but the Brit had other plans. Her free, trembling hand flew down to her seatbelt and unbuckled it. As she hysterically screamed, "I've got to get out of here!" she rushed towards the aisle. Victoria threw her arms around Via's waist and struggled to pull her back into her seat.

The constricting feeling of her friend's arms locking around her only sent Via into more of a frenzy. She screamed and twisted her body back and forth, clawing at Victoria's arms with her nails, causing the girl to yelp in pain. Several other passengers took their eyes away from their windows to see the commotion. Not a single one stood up to offer help.

"It's going to be okay!" Victoria cried as she fought to drag Via back into her seat. Just as Via was about to break free, the bubbly red-headed stewardess grabbed Via by the shoulders and helped force her back to her seat.

"_Let me go!!_" Via shrieked as she fought violently against the two of them. She clawed desperately as they sat her back down and strapped her in. Her mind kept telling her to run, and she reached for the belt buckle, but Victoria was already covering it with both hands. She clawed at them, still hysterically shouting to let her go

The harder Via clawed at her hands, the harder Victoria held onto the seatbelt. "Via, _please_, just breathe!" The pilot's voice came over the intercom and advised everyone to stay calm and assume the crash position. Via didn't so much as pay attention to his warning; Victoria ignored it as well, as she was too busy trying to get Via under control.

"I don't want to die!" Via cried as she tried to stand up again, only to be pulled back down by the restraints. Her face was flushed red and her palms were coated in a thin layer of sweat. "I've got– to get out– of here!" Her shaking hands flew down to claw at Victoria's in a desperate bid to escape her seat

Time seemed to pass agonizingly slowly. Victoria realized impact could happen any second, and that Via was not going to calm down before it came. She let go of the seatbelt and, before Via could even unbuckle it, she grabbed the girl's shoulders and pulled her upper body down towards her legs. "Via, _please_, I promise it'll be okay if you just hold onto your legs!"

Via actually did hug her legs, but it wasn't because of her friend's suggestion. She was sobbing, rocking back and forth, letting out cries of "I don't want to die, I don't want to die..." Victoria let out a short sigh of relief and shut her eyes.

_I love you Mom I love —_

Her thoughts were cut off as the plane smashed into the ground, jarring the cabin with turbulent force. Overhead bins were thrown open from the shock of the landing, and both Via and Victoria blacked out.


	2. Wonderful

He fumbled with his key in the lock. The porch light was on, but the indoor lights were all off. The key slid into the lock, and he turned it, letting himself in.

"Where were you?" He peered in the darkness for the source of the accusatory wife.

"Nowhere. Just at the bar with the guys."

"At the bar." She let out a humorless laugh. "Of course. Should've seen it coming."

"Don't you use that tone with me!" he said, pointing a finger and raising his voice.

"Would you keep your voice down? Your daughter– _our_ daughter is upstairs sleeping."

Their six-year-old daughter scooted back a bit from her perch at the top of the stairs, clutching a stuffed penguin tightly in her arms. She shut her eyes and started counting in her head, mouthing the numbers silently as she went.

"What the _hell_ do I care? You're always up late accusing me of sleeping around!"

The blonde girl at the top of the stairs whimpered softly, opening her eyes to get a peek downstairs.

"I talked to Gary. He didn't see you on Sunday. What are you hiding from me?"

"I'm not hiding _any_thing, dammit!" He staggered forward threateningly, but she took two quick steps back.

"Get out."

"What?"

"I will not have you in this house around our daughter like this. Find somewhere else to sleep."

"You _bitch_." He grabbed a vase off a nearby table and threw it to the ground. The girl at the top of the stairs let out a frightened cry.

"Candi..." The mother's eyes snapped up to her daughter, who scrambled back into her room. "Get OUT!" she spat at her husband.

He shook his head and dismissed her with a wave of his hand before heading back to the door and exiting, making sure to slam it behind him. The mother rushed up to her daughter's room and knelt beside her bed. "Candi, honey..."

No response. She was pretending to sleep. The mother tried again. "Honey... what you saw down there..."

"You fight so much," her daughter squeaked out, still holding onto Waddles as tightly as she could.

"Honey... your dad and I, we're just..."

"...you still love Daddy?"

A tear ran down the mother's face. She never thought they would end up being one of these families. "Your daddy and I, we're just... growing apart... Do you understand that?"

"Mmh-mmh." The girl shook her head emphatically.

The mother hung her head. She didn't expect that explanation to work anyway. "Candi, I promise you that someday soon, everything will be amazing again. I promise. It'll all be okay someday...."

She stood up and leaned over the bed, rearranging her daughter's blankets and bringing one of Waddles's wings over her. "Everything will be wonderful someday, Honey. I promise."

- - -

"Give it a rest, Lindsay," Candida said as she fixed her hair in the mirror. "You don't _really_ think that Joel Puckerman is going to go after _you_, do you? I am, after all, the Pickford Princess.... but that's alright. You're young. You still need to learn the pecking order."

The brunette girl called Lindsay fell silent as her smile faltered. "....oh."

"It's alright. You'll find someone. _We'll_ find you someone," she self-corrected, glancing at the gaggle of girls standing behind her.

Lindsay wasn't very reassured by this, but she smiled nonetheless.

"Did you get the Yuletide Star yet?" a short blonde asked.

"Not yet. But soon," Candida said matter-of-factly as she wiped a clump of mascara out of the corner of her eye.

The bell rang, signaling the end of zero period, and the girls eventually dispersed, leaving for their classes. Candida was heading for the door when her phone rang. Seeing that it was her mother calling, she answered.

Keely pushed on the restroom door when she heard a voice from inside. "Hello?" She jumped back and glanced around nervously, when the voice continued. She sounded familiar, but Keely couldn't place who it could have been. "Oh, hey.... what?.... No, didn't you say.....no, I don't–.... Mom, that's not fair!" An annoyed sigh followed. "You can't _do_ this to me!.... You can't– wow. Wow. I can't even... no. Never mind. Good_bye_."

Keely pushed open the door and Candida hurried past her, her eyes shut tight and her hands balled into fists. "Wonder what her deal is..." Keely muttered to herself.

_- - -_

Candida took a stutter step as she walked in the front door after school that day. "Um... hello."

"Oh! Candida," her mother said, standing upon seeing her daughter, "I want you to meet Jeff." He stood up as Candida gave him an obviously fake smile.

"Gee, Mom, where'd you pick this one up?" she asked, looking up and raising an eyebrow. She struggled not to grin as she saw her mother's expression falter.

"_Candi..._" her mother warned in an undertone. "Um... I'm going to get us some drinks... Jeff, why don't you get to know my daughter here?"

Candida rolled her eyes as Jeff watched her mother leave the room, then sighed and sat down on the edge of the chair.

"So. You're Jeff," she said, after an awkward pause.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing his stubbly chin.

Candida smirked, then spoke up again. "Sorry about earlier, I should really be more used to this. You're the, um... the fifth man she's brought home this year. Sixth? Something like that."

She grinned as she watched the brown-haired man raise his eyebrows. She guessed him to be in his early thirties, which would make him several years younger than her mother.

"You didn't seem surprised when I came home though," she pressed on, "so I'm guessing she actually mentioned me this time. I guess that's a welcome change."

He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and tried to change the subject. "Your mother's a really interesting person..."

"Ohhh, I know what _that_ means. You met her at a bar, didn't you? Ha, yeah, get some of that in her, and—"

"What? No, I—"

"Funny, she usually doesn't bring them home from the bar. They'll bring _her_ home, sure, but—..."

Candida trailed off as she saw her mother come into the room. Jeff stood up, then turned around and saw her, drinks in hand. "You know what," he said, "I actually... I forgot, I have to go; I have, um, I have this appointment... that I really need to get to. Doctor's appointment."

"...Oh," her mother said as she grabbed her backpack and headed upstairs. "Okay, well... I'll be here if you want to drop by again..."

He offered a polite smile, then hastily walked out the door. Candida sighed in relief as she heard the front door close.

- - -

Keely picked up her bag after school and headed towards the side doors of the school to meet Phil, when she heard a noise coming from one of the classrooms. Curious, she doubled back and peeked in, seeing a girl leaning forward on a desk, resting her head face-down on her arms.

Keely knocked on the open door to announce her presence. "Um... hey, you okay?"

Candida picked her head up and looked over, after subtly wiping her tears off her face.

"Candida? What are you still doing here?"

"Um...... nothing," Candida said after a beat, unable to think of any reasonable excuse.

"Is everything okay?" Keely asked upon seeing Candida's reddened eyes.

"Totally. Totally fine."

"You sure about that?"

Candida sighed and let her head drop again.

"Come on. Talk to me about it."

"I just– I don't want to go home, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

"Why not?"

She picked up her head again. "Your parents aren't still together, are they?"

Keely sighed and sat down next to her. "No. My dad left when I was really young. I was like... four. Maybe three: I don't really remember him."

"Well. I remember my dad. At least, I remember him fighting with my mom all the time. Seems like it's all they ever did."

"I'm sorry..."

"...and now she's with this new guy, and I just... I don't know. I don't like it. I feel like all they did was make my life miserable. I hate them for it."

"But... they're your parents..."

"I don't care. I shouldn't have to love them if they don't deserve it."

Keely sighed. "I just... I don't know if you realize how hard it is to raise a kid on your own..."

"Well sure, but... I just... I don't want two homes anymore. I don't want two rooms. I don't want to have to split my holidays all the time," she said, her voice growing stronger and more bitter with each sentence. "I just want my life to be like it used to be!"

Keely's shoulders drooped. "Well..."

"I know, I know... and now my boyfriend's breaking up with me, too..."

"Aww, why?"

"I don't know," she said, lifting her head and wiping angrily at her eyes. "I'm too clingy, or something. He said he 'needs his space'..."

Keely sighed and put a hand on Candida's back. "I know you've probably heard this plenty of times already, but it does get better. Things won't be so bad after a while."

Candida scoffed and shook her head. "You're right. I have heard that before."

"And if you ever need to talk to someone... you can let me know... okay?"

Candida sniffled and nodded. Keely smiled, then quietly stood up and left.

- - -

From atop the ladder, Candida beamed as she looked down on all the grinning faces looking up at her. Finally, a moment all her own. She spotted her mother near the front of the crowd, and even offered her a small smile. Her mother waved back at her.

She gripped the Yuletide Star and gently placed it atop the tree. The crowd cheered and clapped as she bathed in the glow of the light. She scanned the crowd, and her smile faltered as she noticed Phil and Keely standing next to each other. She looked behind them and saw Mr. and Mrs. Diffy (Pim had apparently not seen any point in attending the tree-lighting ceremony), and beside them, another family looking up at her. Families all over. Husbands and wives. Fathers and daughters. Mothers and sons. She smiled once more, much weaker this time, then gave the crowd a final wave and stepped down from the ladder.

Keely frowned as she watched Candida try to slip unnoticed behind the stage which had been set up for the occasion.

"You know," Phil mused, "Pim not coming here was probably the nicest thing she's ever done for Candida. I can't imagine what she would've done if she came. I don't even _want _to imagine."

Keely nodded in agreement. "Um, hey, would you excuse me for like, two minutes?"

"Oh, sure thing," Phil said, not concerned to the point of asking her where she was going. He simply nodded and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He then turned his focus back to the stage and felt a tinge of discomfort when Mayor Da Luca took the stage with his daughter. Upon seeing her slowly looking in his direction, he tried to hide his face. "Hurry back, will you?" he called to Keely just as she headed off.

Keely walked behind the curtains at the rear of the stage and saw Candida sitting on a park bench by the side of the street. "Hey, you looked good up there," she said gently as she sat down next to her.

Candida sniffled and lifted her head. "Who cares?"

"...what's wrong? Is there a problem?"

"Them. _Them_," she repeated, jabbing a finger in the direction of the crowd. "_They're_ the problem. All so happy and cheerful... it's so unfair... she ruined my life!"

"Ohh... I'm sure that's not true..."

She wiped a tear away and sighed. "Yes it is. Of _course_ it is. I might as well not even have a dad... and every guy I see always ends up leaving me... I can't even form a meaningful relationship with _any_one! I hate her!"

"That's an... awfully strong statement."

"I just..." Candida pounded her fists on her thighs. "I just hate everything some days. Every_one_. They don't get what it's like."

"You can't really expect them to understand, can you?"

She sighed and covered her face with her hands.

"Love is... tricky," Keely said, leaning back on the bench. "I guess it can't always last forever."

Candida slowly looked up at Keely and laughed. "Oh, like you should be talking about love not lasting forever. I know about you and Phil."

Keely suddenly grew defensive. "Who told you about Phil?"

"What? No, I mean you two. Been together since, what, ninth grade?.. Now you're both seniors, still as blissful as ever. How can you say that love doesn't last forever? Of course love lasts forever. True love, anyway," she clarified, sighing and looking down at the ground. "True love never fades. Romance fades. Infatuation fades. Guess they never loved each other. The only reason they stayed together as long as they did was because of me."

"... you know their splitting up wasn't your fault, right?"

Candida waved her hand, dismissing the thought. "That doesn't matter. I just wish I had a chance at a normal life."

"What's stopping you from having one? Have you ever talked to your mom about this? Or your dad?"

"Like _he'd_ listen..."

"All I can say is... just try and have a conversation with them. Or even just your mom, if you don't want to talk to your dad. You'd be surprised how much just talking about things can help."

Candida sniffled. "I guess."

"You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine."

Keely nodded and slowly walked away, back to be with Phil, and Candida groaned at the thought of the two of them standing there, wrapped in each other's arms, standing beside Mr. and Mrs. Diffy, the four of them bathed from the light of the large tree in the center of the park.

She stood up, took off her shoes, and walked home, alone.

- - -

She looked at herself in her bedroom mirror. She smiled. Then frowned. It looked too fake. Too forced. She sighed.

She wasn't going to get a much better opportunity than she had. It was 10:43, and her mother would undoubtedly be on the couch downstairs, reading. She took a breath, sighed, and left her bedroom.

"Mom?"

Candida's mother looked up from her book and looked at the top of the stairs, where her daughter was standing. "What's up, Candi?"

Her mind fired off like a loose cannon, offering her plenty of things to start with.

_I want to talk. _

_I __need__ to talk. _

_I hate what happened between you and Dad._

_I know you did your best to raise me on your own._

_I'm sorry for being so nasty to your boyfriends. I just don't want to start over._

_I know I haven't been the best daughter, and I apologize for that._

_I know we fight a lot, and I know you think I love fighting with you, but I don't. I hate it._

_..._

_You've damaged me. You and Dad damaged me._

_Because of you, I find it hard to trust people._

_Because of you, the people I call my friends don't even know how much I hate my life._

_Because of you, I drive people away from me because my fear of abandonment leads to me clinging too hard and thinking paranoid thoughts._

_Because of you, I'm insecure._

_Because of you, I'm lonely._

_I don't even feel loved. I never have.  
_

She opened her mouth and spoke quietly. "You were wrong."

Her mother paused. "Wrong about what, Honey?"

"It's not okay. Nothing's okay. You were wrong. You lied."

"..."

"I wouldn't expect you to remember. Just empty promises. What was I thinking..." Candida shook her head and went back to her room, ignoring her mother calling her name. She shut and locked her door and put on some music to drown out the inevitable knocking that would come soon.

She took out her phone and looked at a date on its calendar twenty-three months in the future. She marked it.

November 16 - 18th birthday

She shook her head, and got ready for bed. While she was brushing her teeth, her mother sighed and gave up knocking on the door, deciding to try and talk to her the next morning.

She hopped into bed and gazed out the window. It was going to be a long break from school. In three days, she was going to have to take a trip up to her father's house for the holiday. The thought of the trip was enough to make her groan.

She sighed and, pulling her blankets tight, laid herself to sleep. She caught a glimpse of a familiar black and white figure out of the corner of her eye as she rolled onto her back.

"'Night, Waddles," she whispered, then let out a short, soft chuckle.

The penguin stood like a sentry on the nightstand, casting a watchful, beady eye over her dormant form.


End file.
